#Carrie Fisher: a Life on the Edge

[dearcarriefisher]

throwing up scallops and percodan

i saw postcards from the edge last night. i have mixed feelings.

the book, well, the book was superb. if i compare the movie to the book, i am hopelessly disappointed. but as a standalone story, it was fine. meryl streep and shirley maclaine are legends. i particularly liked robin bartlett's character. seriously, everyone needs an aretha in their life.

but i kept looking for you. i couldn't see you in this so-called semi-autobiographical story. you of course know better than i. it's your life. i missed your playful, unhinged way of putting two thoughts together that have no business being in the same room as one another.

i was relieved to find a scene or two riffed off your opening paragraph. but really, it doesn't get much better than this:

Maybe I shouldn't have given the guy who pumped my stomach my phone number, but who cares? My life is over anyway. Besides, what was I supposed to do? He came up to my room and gave me that dumb stuffed animal that looks like a thumb, and there I was lying in bed twelve hours after an overdose. I wasn't feeling my most attractive. I'd thrown up scallops and Percodan on him the night before in the emergency room. I thought that it would be impolite to refuse to give him my number. He probably won't call, anyway. No one will ever call me again. (9)

i've been thinking. it's one thing to have your book adapted into a movie. as a writer, i would be both honored and wary about how my story would be rendered. the likelihood of this quandary is minimal as i have no story of which to speak. anyways, it's another thing to see a semi-autobiographical version of yourself passed out in bed with dennis quaid.

my sense is that this is not your first rodeo. you have lived with other people's versions of yourself your whole life. hell, george lucas even stole your likeness. maybe you've come to peace with it, maybe not.

i get the movie adaptation thing, but it's the ghosts of all these other versions that anger me. in my life, these ghosts are legion. and they won't shut up. every version that someone creates of me has a knack for sticking around. like scallops and percodan rumbling around deep in my entrails.

i have my own doris mann. famous, no, but always the star of her own show and flagrantly inserting herself into everyone else's show too. when i was four or five, i was sick to my stomach with the flu. i remember kneeling in front of the toilet puking my guts out, alone. my mother eventually came to the bathroom just long enough to express her disapproval with my total disregard for her feelings. she left. i wiped the scallops and percodan from my face and cleaned up the mess.

i wanted her to be there, to hold my hair back and to tell me i was going to be okay and that we'd clean up and go downstairs for a glass of ginger ale to settle my stomach. but she didn't even know i was there. another sad case of wishful thinking.

i was ashamed to want her there ... and ashamed to not want her there.

hers were the first versions of myself that i had to live with. many more would follow. so many that i forgot for most of my life what the original even was.

i had no name of my own, known only by the frankenstein who created me. once someone created a version of me, i was doomed to carry that with me forever. now i was someone who had total disregard for my mother's feelings. what a monster.

through the years, i've also been adapted into some who is too loud, too sensitive, too big, too needy, too unpredictable, too crazy, too smart, too good, too bad. just existing seemed to be too much for the world.

i share this with you not to compare or vilify our mothers, but to say that i get it. i know what it's like to live everyone else's version of myself instead of the original. "but the trouble is", as suzanne says to lowell in their final scene together, "i can't feel my life".

this is an amazing scene. not so much the counseling session by lowell, but earlier in the scene when suzanne has to redo lines that she had previously flubbed up. it's a glimpse into suzanne's own story, her realization of where she's been and who she is.

she knows it. and her voice commands the room.

scallops and percodan, yes. but don't walk out just yet. waking up to one's own life is worth the messy process of vomiting out the warped versions that we've internalized.

for me it's time to redo the narrative. and frankly (which is an improvement over frankensteinly) i rather like the intensity of being me. it's time to redo the "too much" narrative.

Sometimes, though, I'll be driving, listening to loud music with the day spreading out all over, and I'll feel something so big and great—a feeling as loud as the music. It's as though my skin is the only thing that keeps me from going everywhere all at once. If this doesn't tell you exactly what I'm doing, it should tell you how I'm feeling when I'm doing whatever it is. (226)

Quotes from Carrie Fisher, Postcards from the Edge (New York: Simon & Schuster, Inc., 1987; reprinted May 2010)

#percodan #scallops #postcards from the edge #carrie fisher #wishful thinking #semi-autobiographical #likeness #version #vomiting #frankenstein #adapted from a novel #my story #my life

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.

Ruby Dee (A Raisin in the Sun, The Jackie Robinson, Story Edge of the City)— A cute and petite bombshell. She displayed emotions like a sunbeam through a window. She was easy to like and easy to fall in love with.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Elizabeth Taylor:

I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.

Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community

Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.

A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.

She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!

just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time

THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.

Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood

Ruby Dee:

#elizabeth taylor #ruby dee #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

[bengiyo]

Comfort Films Tag

Rules: List 7 of your comfort movies, then tag 7 people.

Tagged by @callipigio

1 - Shelter (2007)

I often joke around here about how I’ve been watching queer cinema for over half of my life at this point, and it’s easy to recommend this film. This is a coming of age film about a guy who gave up art school to become the primary breadwinner and caregiver for his family. However, when the older brother of his best friend returns to their town to collect himself, our artist and he reconnect and find something special between them. Great use of a young actor in this shores up the caregiving aspects.

I’m probably going to rewatch it now. Because it was produced by Here! TV, you can only legally watch it via a subscription to their platform. I own it on DVD because I fell in love with it and knew I needed to keep it forever.

2 - Big Eden (2000)

Big Eden. Oh, Big Eden. This is the film equivalent of a warm blanket and a tight hug. It’s about an artist named Henry Hart, who is preparing for a big exhibition in New York when he’s called back home to Montana because his uncle has had a stroke. We are greatest with the most queer-friendly town to ever exist as Henry manages his old angst about his straight best friend as the local general store owner also secretly pursues him. It’s absolutely lovely.

3 - The Blues Brothers (1980)

Luna has great taste, because this is one of the best films ever made. What was originally just an SNL bit turns into a fun road film about getting the band back together so that two brothers can raise enough money to pay the back taxes owed by the orphanage they grew up in. We also run over Illinois nazis in this movie and demolish dozens of cop cars. Cab Calloway, James Brown, Carrie Fisher, Chaka Khan, Paul Reubens, and Aretha Franklin are in it. John Candy orders orange whips. This is the kind of film I would watch with my dad any time it was on.

4 - Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)

This is one of the most man movies ever made. I don’t know any woman who wants to sit down and watch this film, but me and boys will spend an entire afternoon on this film in a heartbeat. The sexual tension between Russell Crowe’s and Paul Bettany’s characters goes unremarked on this website in a way that lets you know for sure this hellsite is dominated by femmes, because those two have definitely fucked. At least twice. It’s 1805 and oceans have become battlefields!

5 - Clue (1985)

A movie based on the board game of the same name should not have been this good, but it instead goes on to become a camp masterpiece. Many people will end up remembering Tim Curry for Rocky Horror or even Muppet Treasure Island, but this is still one of his favorite performances for me. This film is batshit and I love it. 

6 - Camp (2003)

Speaking of camp films, let’s talk about one of the best of all time. I know we often talk about the bad singing in Thai BL, but I unironically love all of the musical theater in this film. I regularly listen to this soundtrack, and have been for over 15 years. It’s a film about a bunch of weird theater kids who get to escape the bullying and hellishness of their lives for a few weeks during the summer, where they get to put on a bunch of classic plays. It’s so camp. I love this film because it was difficult for me to find queer films that had happy components with them, and this little movie has a wide array of queer kids in it.

7 - Make The Yuletide Gay (2009)

This was the first queer film I ever watched that had a happy ending that was also a comedy. Prior to this, I think I had watched Beautiful Thing (1996), Edge of Seventeen (1998), Get Real (1998), and Bent (1997). Most of those films ended resolved or sad. Yuletide is a silly little gay film of almost nonstop innuendo about a guy who goes back into the closet when he returns home for Christmas, but hijinks ensue when his boyfriend shows up unexpectedly. It’s an annual watch for me around the holidays, and I usually host people for it. 

Also, Adamo Ruggiero is in it! He played Marco on Degrassi: The Next Generation.

This was fun! I think most folks have been tagged that I know, but I’ll tag @warningtothecurious​. If anyone else does this, please tag me back if you do this! I want to know what films you all return to.

#tag meme #comfort films #shelter 2007 #make the yuletide gay #big eden #the blues brothers #camp 2003 #clue 1985 #master and commander #Ben watches #ben writes

[cryonme]

𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱)

—Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

—summary: you need him like water, he thinks that you're alright. based on complex (demo) by katie gregson-macleod

—word count: 1.6k

— tw: very brief smut ( minors…. stop right there! ), mentions of blood and suicide (nothing actually violent or gory just mentions of it), lots of self deprecation, depression, swearing, alcohol. angst angst angst hurt with no comfort

a/n: ummm... sorry in advance for this, this one hurts lol. also… probably the first n last time i write any kind of smut lol.

song lyrics for reference:

I’m 21 The edge is razor thin Between being numb And feeling everything Good days only serve as relief again

Now I’m watching as I waste away my days And then It’s a cross dissolve It’s a scene I’ve played before And the leading role that I thought I’d hold Doesn’t listen to me anymore

But I’m wearing his boxers I’m being a good wife We won’t be together But maybe the next life

I need him like water He lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom He turns off the big light

I’m being the cool girl I’m keeping it so tight I carry home while My friends have a good night

I need him like water He thinks that I’m alright I’m not feeling human I think he’s a good guy

But it’s complex It’s a complex It’s a complex I’m a complex

Triangular I can see them now Three points at which I let myself down I was just a girl What’s the excuse now?

Too regular This pattern I’ve been taking shelter in Reaching new highs When I was 19 I wanted to die

Now I just want to kill you But I don’t want to paint you the victim And I talk a good game I’d die for you just the promise you’d listen

But I’m wearing his boxers I’m being a good wife We won’t be together But maybe the next life

I need him like water He lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom He turns off the big light

I’m being the cool girl I’m keeping it so tight I carry home while My friends have a good night

I need him like water He thinks that I’m alright I’m not feeling human I think he’s a good guy

But it’s complex It’s a complex It’s a complex I’m a complex

You were beginning to feel normal again.

Whatever sadness your brain had plagued your body with that kept you chained to your room had begun to heal, and you felt like you could see again. No thick fog of heaviness that kept you from seeing your hands outstretched in front of your face.

You were smiling.

Your friends had noticed too, they saw the lightness that followed you when you actually made small talk when you ventured into the kitchen instead of desperately trying to bury yourself as deep into your hoodie and hold your blanket as tightly as possible around you.

You went out for drinks with your roommates and friends. You ordered an appetizer and you ate it. You made eye contact with the waitress and thanked her genuinely as she collected your menu. You laughed about old stories and gasped and reacted accordingly to the new ones hitting your ears.

You were fucking normal again.

But, one thing you learned as you got to know yourself, is nothing ever lasted for you. 

The only thing that stuck around and made itself constant was Conrad Fisher.

That gorgeous, wicked grin of a man.

He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it, he fucking knew it. He knew how you loved him so desperately that it made you feel small, pathetic. Nothing but a small fly sat on the rubber of his shoe.

But if you were to be anything to Conrad Fisher, you’d settle for a fly. Because at least you could stay close to him.

Conrad: can you come get me

You wanted to scream. 

You wanted to scream and cry until you ripped your own hair from the scalp and you wanted to flip over this table and smash every glass and plate in the restaurant, making everyone around you bloody and bruised but you wouldn’t care because at least you wouldn’t be alone.

You: I’m busy.

You shoved your phone in your pocket and tried to breathe. You tried to focus on your friends in front of you, your friends who love you so much and had been there through every unbearable second of the past few months. The friends who loved you through the hard times when Conrad was absent. Your friend caught your eye and her smile faltered.

She knew that look.

That was the “Conrad Fisher just texted me and he needs me and for some reason, no matter how badly I don’t want to, I have to go” look. 

Conrad: please.

And so you did. 

You told everyone you had a headache, something in your cocktail just wasn’t right and it was making you queasy. They all nodded and begged you not to apologize but they shared knowing looks with each other once your presence was absent from the table. They discussed how they weren’t angry, just simply so worried for what this was going to look like when Conrad Fisher decided to throw you out.

Conrad texted you the information of the bar he was at. He had one too many and he couldn’t walk home alone, nor did any of his friends want to leave just yet.

“Hey, baby.” Conrad greeted you as he unwound his arm from around a girl you didn’t recognize, and slung it around you. “Y’look pretty.”

His words were slurring and his eyelids were slumped and his grin was lopsided but god, the ache in your chest only worsened because he was just so beautiful.

You knew his friends probably made fun of you when you weren’t around. Probably talked about how lucky Conrad was that he had a girl so completely enthralled in him that she didn’t care if she embarrassed herself by continuing to show up for him even though he never returned the favor. 

“Conrad’s got a girlfriend with no strings attached.” You’d heard one of them say once.

Conrad had been there. He just simply laughed and shook his head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and saying, “We’re just really close, that’s all.” And you’d smile and nod, words of thanks leaving your mouth when his friends told you how cool you were.

That motherfucker. He knows it isn’t true.

“Yeah. I was with friends.” You said, politely smiling and bidding hellos/ goodbyes to all of his friends as you began to turn, making your way out of the bar with Conrad’s bodyweight clinging to you like a weighted blanket.

But at least you were holding him.

Conrad didn’t respond. He just continued to stumble down the street.

You knew the way to his apartment perfectly, having been to this bar then back to his apartment multiple times, and it was only a couple of blocks. So you trudged on, trying as hard as you could not to think about the fact you were carrying him home while your friends had a good night.

Conrad’s lips on yours was something that felt so beautiful yet so deeply hideous. Like sipping on a delicious cocktail full of liquor and sugar, not caring about the headache and nausea it was going to greet you with in the morning.

You were drunk on him. Completely wasted, but you didn’t care because how could you even think about tomorrow when he was pressed up against you like this?

“Need to hear your words, baby.” He breathed against your skin, pressing hot kisses down the scape of your neck.

“Please.” The word slipped from your lips like a plea, your voice cracking pathetically because, god, you needed him so badly. You needed him like water to your tongue and air to your lungs.

“Good girl.” Conrad praised before he slipped inside of you and you cried out, a sinful moan spilling past your lips and drenching Conrad in pride. He loved the way he made you feel, the pretty noises he elicited from your throat because he knew the exact spots and movements that turned you into a mess around him and he loved it.

And when it was over he’d gently pull you into his bathroom, he’d coo at the whimpers leaving your throat from the sensitivity as he cleaned you up. He’d bring you a pair of boxers and a tee shirt to wear, then he’d turn off the lights and crawl into his bed with his back facing you, not even uttering a simple “Goodnight.”

You’d cry in his bathroom once you could hear his breaths deepen and once you’d start you could hardly stop. Terrible gasps and sobs would fill the dark bathroom as you released every emotion you felt towards Conrad Fisher. Anger, sadness, regret, love, absolute fucking devotion.

You would wake up on the bathroom floor from the small light from the crack of the curtains spilling into the room and you’d slip into bed before Conrad woke up. 

You would arise when he did and you’d smile when he rasped out “Good morning.” 

You’d start a pot of coffee and you’d make him his own, just the way he likes it. You’d leave it on the counter for him as you gathered your things, discarding his boxers and tee shirt into the laundry basket and you’d slowly slip on your outfit from the night before, knowing you’d have to endure judgemental stares and giggles from people passing by you on the straight because of the very obvious walk of shame you were trekking.

He wouldn’t offer to drive you home, why would he?

“Why are you sulking?” He asked from his position in bed, scrolling through his phone.

He went off script.

“I’m not sulking.”

“Why’d you sleep on the bathroom floor then?”

You froze.

“Excuse me?”

Conrad rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know you slept on the bathroom floor.”

You were panicking trying as hard as you could to muster up words, some kind of excuse, anything else besides the words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“I wanted to.”

Conrad raised his eyebrows. He didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t, it was a dumb excuse. A dumb excuse that made you want to face palm yourself as hard as you could, hopefully knocking some sense into you.

“You wanted to?”

“I wanted to.”

“Okay.”

You went home without another word, he didn’t even walk you to the door because why the fuck would he? This meant nothing to him.

You meant nothing to him.

You were slipping again, just as quickly as you began to mend, your wounds began to reopen. Nasty, stinging, hideous wounds that invisibly decorated your body began to split, and you were nothing but empty and embarrassed. No longer human, only the broken and stained shell of the girl you once were.

All this pain, over a stupid boy.

A stupid boy that you were now sat next to, in a bar with all your mutual friends, being the cool girl once again. 

He had that stupid fucking charming smile plastered on his face and you wanted to kill him. God, you wanted to fuck him then kill him over and over again until your skin was tinted red and your lips were bruised. 

You never would.

Of course you wouldn’t.

Why would you want to when there was always the sliver of a chance that he’d text you, “I need you”.

It would forever be complex, the way you loved Conrad Fisher and the way he loved to keep you around. Maybe, somewhere deep down he loved you too but didn’t know how to show it. But, the possibility of him just loving your convenience and eager willingness to spread your legs for him, and only him, was much more believable.

A complex.

like i said….. so sorry.

tags| @iluvt4ylorswift @colbysbrocks @prettysummerbaby @gillybear17 @tessastle @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @lilygreennn @allise4 @heyimadison @liltimmys @slut4fictionalcharacters

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfiction #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher fanfic #conrad fisher angst

[escapingrealityforamoment]

Unspoken Desires

Chapter 3: Surrendering to Love

Days turned into weeks, and our bond only grew stronger. Conrad and I spent endless hours together, exploring the hidden corners of Cousins Beach and creating new memories. Each touch, each stolen kiss, deepened our connection, igniting a flame that burned brightly within us. But as summer waned, so did the sense of blissful ignorance. The realities of life began to creep into our idyllic bubble. Conrad's family obligations, my own uncertain future, and the impending end of summer loomed over us like a storm cloud. One evening, as we sat on the beach, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Conrad turned to me, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "Y/N, we both know summer can't last forever," he said softly. "But that doesn't mean we have to let go of what we've found." Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the truth in his words. Our time together was limited, but the love we shared was undeniable. I nodded, my heart aching at the thought of our impending separation. "Conrad, I don't want to let go," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "I want to hold onto this, whatever it may be, for as long as we can." A bittersweet smile tugged at Conrad's lips as he reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers. "Then let's make every moment count," he said, his voice filled with determination. "No matter what the future holds, I want to cherish this summer and our connection." And so, we embarked on a journey of love, fueled by passion and the desire to savor every remaining day. We laughed under the sun, danced beneath the starlit sky, and shared whispered promises in the quiet of the night. But as the final days of summer approached, an air of melancholy settled upon us. The reality of our impending separation weighed heavily on our hearts. We found solace in each other's arms, seeking comfort in the knowledge that our love would forever be etched in the sands of Cousins Beach. On that last day, as the sun dipped below the horizon for the final time, Conrad and I stood near the water's edge, tears glistening in our eyes. The ocean's waves crashed against the shore, echoing the bittersweet symphony of our emotions. "Y/N, this summer has been the most beautiful chapter of my life," Conrad whispered, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and gratitude. "You've shown me the true meaning of love and the courage to hold onto it, even when the world tries to pull us apart." I leaned into his embrace, the warmth of his touch soothing the ache in my heart. "Conrad, you've awakened a part of me that I never knew existed," I replied, my voice trembling. "No matter where life takes us, you'll always have a piece of my heart." With one final lingering kiss, we silently vowed to carry the memories of that summer forever. The waves crashed against the shore, carrying away our whispered promises and unspoken desires, but leaving behind a love that would endure, even as time carried us to different shores. As I looked back on that unforgettable summer, Conrad Fisher remained etched in my heart, forever the one who showed me the power of love and the courage to embrace it. And in the depths of my soul, I knew that no matter where life took us, our connection would forever be intertwined, an eternal reminder of the summer we turned pretty and found a love that defied the constraints of time.

THE END..

#conrad fisher #tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad fisher imagine #belly x conrad #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher imagine #tsitp jeremiah #Jeremiah Fisher #team jeremiah #tsitp fanfic #tsitp x reader #tsitpbookseries #tsitpedit

[cantsayidont]

Haterating and hollerating through the '90s:

POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE (1990): Carrie Fisher scripted this witty adaptation of her novel about coked-up, pill-popping actress Suzanne Yale (Meryl Streep), who overdoses in the bed of a strange man (Dennis Quaid), ends up in rehab, and learns that the only way the production insurance company will let her keep working is if she stays with her mother, an aging singer-actress-diva (Shirley MacLaine) whose love for her daughter is equaled only by her tireless determination to upstage her. (No, it's not autobiographical at all, why do you ask?) Fisher's deftly paced, funny script weaves in various serious mother-daughter moments without ever becoming mawkish, and offers a fabulous part for MacLaine, who has a ball poking fun at herself as well as Debbie Reynolds, Fisher's real-life mother and the obvious basis for the film's lightly fictionalized "Doris Mann." Curiously, the weakest link is Streep, who never quite sheds her customary air of prim affectation and always seems ill at ease with Fisher's layers of self-deprecating, sarcastic humor. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Apparently not, although I had questions about Suzanne's rehab friend Aretha (Robin Barlett). VERDICT: MacLaine's finest hour, but Streep's primness keeps it "good" rather than "great."

TERESA'S TATTOO (1993): Painfully unfunny crime comedy, directed by Melissa Etheridge's then-GF Julie Cypher and costarring Cypher's ex, Lou Diamond Phillips, along with an array of incongruously high-profile actors like Joe Pantoliano, Tippi Hedren, Mare Winningham, Diedrich Bader, k.d. lang (!), Sean Astin, Emilio Estevez, and Kiefer Sutherland, most in bit parts (some of them unbilled). The headache-inducing plot concerns a couple of brain-dead thugs whose elaborate hostage scheme hits a snag when their hostage (Adrienne Shelly) accidentally dies. Their solution is to kidnap lookalike Teresa (also Adrienne Shelly), a brainy Ph.D. candidate, and disguise her to look like the dead girl — including giving her a matching tattoo on her chest — in the hopes that the dead girl's idiot brother (C. Thomas Howell) won't notice the switch until it's too late. This truly bad grade-Z effort, barely released theatrically, feels like either a vanity project or a practical joke that got out of hand, and is interesting mostly as a curiosity for Melissa Etheridge fans: The soundtrack is M.E.-heavy, and Etheridge herself has a brief nonspeaking role. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Technically? (Etheridge has no lines and lang plays a Jesus freak.) VERDICT: May erode your affection for M.E.

BLUE JUICE (1995): Tiresome comedy-drama about an aging surfer (a terribly miscast, painfully uncomfortable-looking Sean Pertwee) who's still determined to continue living like a 20-year-old surf bum with his obnoxious mates, even though his back is giving out and he's perilously close to driving away his girlfriend (a disconcertingly hot 25-year-old Catherine Zeta Jones), who is keen for him to finally cut the shit. Meanwhile, the scummiest of his mates (Ewan McGregor) doses their pal Terry (Peter Gunn) and gets him to chase after an actress from his childhood favorite TV show (Jenny Agutter) in hopes of dissuading from marrying his actual girlfriend (Michelle Chadwick), and their mate Josh (Steven Mackintosh), a successful techno producer, flirts with an attractive DJ (Colette Brown) who's actually furious at him for building a vapid techno hit around a sample of her soul singer dad's biggest hit. The latter storyline probably had the most potential (although a weird scene where Josh is castigated by a group of outraged soul fans seems like a lesser TWILIGHT ZONE plot), but none of the script's various threads ever amounts to much. CONTAINS LESBIANS? It doesn't even pass the Bechdel test. VERDICT: If you happen upon it, you may be tempted just for Zeta Jones (and/or Brown), but the rest wears out its welcome with alacrity.

HIGHER LEARNING (1995): Potent story of simmering racial tensions on the campus of a university that definitely isn't USC (writer-director John Singleton's alma mater, and where most of the film was obviously shot), let down by incredibly heavy-handed execution. (The film's final shot is of the word "UNLEARN" superimposed over a giant American flag!) A capable cast (including Omar Epps, Kristy Swanson, Michael Rapaport, Jennifer Connelly, Ice Cube, Tyra Banks, Cole Hauser, Laurence Fishburne, and Regina King) tries to maintain a sense of emotional reality through Singleton's frequent excursions into overpowering melodrama, but there are so many competing plot threads that few characters have any depth; curiously, the script's most complex characterization is in the scenes between budding white supremacist Remy (Rapaport) and Aryan Brotherhood organizer Scott (Hauser). Singleton made this film when he was 25, and there's no shame in its sense of breathless ambition (even if it inevitably bites off more than it can chew), but the overwrought stridency undercuts its intended impact. For a more effective treatment of similar themes in roughly the same period, try Gilbert Hernandez's graphic novel X, originally serialized in LOVE & ROCKETS #31–39 and first collected in 1993. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Jennifer Connelly gives Kristy Swanson a bisexual awakening. VERDICT: The '90s through a bullhorn.

CRASH (1996): Divisive David Cronenberg adaptation of the J.G. Ballard novel, about a movie producer called James Ballard (James Spader) and his desperately horny wife (Deborah Kara Unger), drawn into a loose-knit group of car-crash fetishists organized around a man called Vaughan (Elias Koteas at his creepiest), who stages recreations of famous celebrity crashes like the 1955 accident that killed James Dean. Despite some pretentious dialogue about "the reshaping of the human body by modern technology," the controlling idea might be better summarized as "anything can be a paraphilia if you get weird enough about it." Part of what offends people about the film is that Cronenberg deliberately treats the entire story with the same frosty clinical detachment, rendering the "normal" sex scenes just as remote and perverse as the characters' fixation on the grisly aftermath of car wrecks; the point is that there is no line, just different facets of the same erotic longing, which each of the (admittedly unsympathetic) principal characters embodies in different ways. Spader, Kara Unger, and Koteas are very good, as is Holly Hunter, in perhaps the bravest role of her career, but Rosanna Arquette is underutilized. A worthwhile companion piece would be Steven Soderbergh's 1989 SEX, LIES, AND VIDEOTAPE, also with Spader, which is much more highly regarded (though almost as contrived and scarcely less perverse), perhaps because it seeks to titillate where Cronenberg does not. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Briefly. (See previous note in re: underutilization of Rosanna Arquette.) VERDICT: Icy but interesting.

#movies #hateration holleration #postcards from the edge #carrie fisher #meryl streep #shirley maclaine #debbie reynolds #teresa's tattoo #julie cypher #melissa etheridge #adrienne shelly #kd lang #blue juice #sean pertwee #catherine zeta jones #ewan mcgregor #crash 1996 #david cronenberg #j.g. ballard #james spader #deborah kara unger #crash #holly hunter #sex lies and videotape #john singleton #higher learning #higher learning 1995 #omar epps

[cherrywoodmaeg]

Shortcut Pt. 13

Tired. Exam in two days. Procrastination. Enjoy!

A conversation, Part 2

Niphka was surprised how good the hours of sleep felt. Upon waking up, her mind was less clouded by doubt and irritation. She felt calmer, more patient, and prepared to deal with whatever the day had in store for her.

Before long, the two were on their way again. As always, she held him high so that they could easily talk while she carefully stepped over the uneven ground.

Whenever she saw signs of settlement, Niphka adjusted her path. She could still sense the pull of the earth, telling her where exactly she was, and was very aware of the delay their detours caused. On the other hand, it gave her more time to figure things out.

“What do think we should do when we reach our destination?”

He perked up at her question.

“I haven’t really thought that far, to be honest. I’ve been so focused on getting there – but we have to tell someone. Someone with power, influence, like a politician.”

Niphka clicked her tongue.

“Then we can only hope they react swiftly.” And she added, “If they really want to prevent the disaster, that is. Who knows how high up this conspiracy goes.”

She could feel Jon squeezing her thumb tighter.

“Don’t worry,” she quickly said, “I’m sure we will find a way to save the town.”

He nodded, and she gently pressed his forearm between two fingers.

“And what are you going to do after?” she changed the subject.

“Maybe I can work as a carpenter again. Seems like a sailor’s life just wasn’t meant for me.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Look, Jon, I’ve met a few people, and none of them was born ready for the challenges of life. But they grew into themselves. If you really want to be a sailor, or anything, really, you can’t give up at the first sign of trouble.”

He sighed.

“You could be right. Even if I’m not cut out to live a life on a ship, I can still be near the sea, right?”

“I that’s where you want to be, then why not?”

She absentmindedly brushed his back.

“I think I will return to the ocean. I could search for my sisters. Just this last adventure, and then I’m ready to leave.”

Jon put his left hand to the finger that hat stroked him, now resting gently on his shoulder. He held it in place, his touch soft enough as to be barely noticeable.

“Or, you could stay for a bit. I could rent a fisher boat and come visit you from time to time. Make sure you don’t get into trouble.”

Niphka laughed. The lump in her throat didn’t feel bad, instead, a sense of warmth built up in her chest and radiated through her body.

“That sounds like a fun idea. You would also get to have your personal, on-call lifeguard. How does that sound?”

He returned her grin.

“From all my experience in the sailing world, I’m afraid I might rely on that.”

Niphka made through another set of hills. Behind them, an orchard of neatly planted trees stretched as far as her eye could see.

Jon was equally intrigued and leaned forward. She instinctively curled her free hand around him in a loose grip.

“Do you want to steer away again or are you up for lunch?”

That was a proposal Jon couldn’t say no to. It wasn’t quite the right season yet for the apples to be harvested, but even in their green colour, nothing on this planet seemed more inviting to him. He eagerly waited for Niphka to reach the edge of the field. But instead of lowering him to the ground, she dropped him onto the branch of a particularly strong apple tree. At first, Jon struggled to keep himself safe on his new look-out spot, but Niphka didn’t retreat her hand before he had steadied himself.

He wasn’t exactly happy about this new position. However, the branches around him carried more fruit than he could count, and even if they still tasted quite sour, he grabbed one after another. Niphka watched him, laughing.

“Careful, or you’ll choke!”

“Easy for you to say,” he replied between chews, “I’m starving!”

She furrowed her brows.

“When is the last time you have eaten?”

“Ida gave me some bread. She had my coat, and her carriage was broken. I helped her with the repairs.”

She sat on the ground with her legs crossed. She was still above Jon’s eye level, but within comfortable range.

“I’m sorry, I had forgotten to make breaks for that.”

Jon swallowed his last bite. “That’s okay, I could have told you.”

Niphka looked at her hands resting in her lap.

“I need you to tell me these things,” she said, more quiet than before. Before Jon could find an adequate response – telling her that she needn’t worry, that her help was already more than enough –, she looked back at him.

“Let’s not dwell on that. You said Ida had your coat?”

If she wanted to change the subject, Jon would let her.

“Yeah, I think I lost it at some point. Someone must have found it I guess. She told me that she’d been pushed off the road. Whoever that was, they had it before her.”

“That’s unusual.”

“Yah, it is.” He fell silent for a moment.

Ask. Now or never.

“I wanted to ask- Can you tell me what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“The night that I got lost. I don’t… I don’t really remember that.” Without wanting to, he held his breath for her response. He was scared that his question would upset her, that she’d be angry.

Her shoulders visibly slumped.

“I wasn’t your fault. You had a nightmare, and when you woke up, you didn’t recognize me. I couldn’t keep you from running off.”

While her account of the night made sense to him, something in him refused to accept it. How had he been able to run away, with his legs much shorter than hers and above that, injured?

While he searched for the right words, Niphka continued.

“You were so scared. It was worse than when we met. I think you needed space. But that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t worried for you.”

“So you waited.”

“I waited,” she confirmed. Then, her head bolted up and she stared him straight in the eyes.

“Please, I know you didn’t leave on purpose. But when the time comes that you want to, please, please just tell me. I would never try to keep you with me against your will, do you understand?”

Jon’s heart skipped a beat as he processed what she said. He felt lightheaded and suddenly struggled to keep his balance on the tree branch.

“I-,” he began, “I… I need to get out of – please, get me off here.”

Before he knew it, he found himself gently plucked out of the apple tree and sat down by its roots. Jon took a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I just need to know that- ”

“No!” he interrupted, his voice louder than he had intended. “Why do you think I’d want to leave?”

His tone grew desperate as he staggeringly got on his two feet again, not minding any of the pain.

“You think I’m nothing like the men you used to know. Yes, I can’t do much, neither for myself nor for anyone else!” He took a deep breath.

“But still – Niphka, you’ve saved my life! You’re here with me, far away from your home, just to help me save mine! I don’t want to leave! You’re… you’re my hero!”

She shook her head.

“You wouldn’t say that if you remembered. I saw the panic in your eyes. You were scared for your life.”

“Well, I’m not scared now!” he shot back.

Within milliseconds, Niphka’s hand shot at him and pinned both of his arms to the ground, leaving him trapped on the ground.

“How about now, then? Jon Williams, listen to me when I tell you you should be!”

“I don’t care!” he cried hoarsely. “I don’t care! Do what you want, but I just don’t believe that you want to hurt me! I know you!”

He paid no mind to the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. Okay, so Niphka could crush him in an instant if she wanted. But nothing she had done so far had given him any cause to see her as anything but – …

“You’re my friend!” he pleaded.

Bit by bit, as if time itself had slowed down, he felt Niphka’s grip loosen. When her fingers stopped pressing him down, he held onto them, not wanting to let her go. She pulled away regardless and his grip lost hers.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay! I promise, it’s okay.”

Niphka buried her face in her hands. Despite her size, she looked small, defeated. Jon wished that he could somehow console her, embrace her and convince her that his nightmare hadn’t meant anything.

“I need you to trust me,” he said, softly. “Just like I trust you.”

Please.

Her breath was shaky.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she finally said, rubbing her eyes. “I have never felt like this. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but everything is completely different. Everything is upside-down.”

“Imagine how I felt when a giant fairytale mermaid pulled me out of the water!” Jon urged, insistent on lightening the load both of them were carrying. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t thank the Gods every day since!”

He wanted to move over to her, but he wasn’t sure if his legs would carry him all the way.

“Niphka,” he said, and immediately had her full attention. “Please let me prove it.”

Extending one arm to her, Jon signalled that he wanted her to pick him up. She reluctantly complied.

Carefully, he directed her to hold him closer. When she did, he threw himself into her chest, determined to leave as much of an impact as possible. The height didn’t bother him anymore; all he cared about was making her feel better. Jon held himself as close as he could, tightly clinging to the fabric of her clothes.

Hesitantly at first, then with more heart, Niphka returned the hug. Jon became aware that she could do so with only two or three fingers, but instead of pulling away, he leaned into it.

She was everywhere. He could feel the warmth of her gentle touch, keeping him safe. He noticed her faint smell of earth and a hint of salt. The beat of her heart resonated through his entire body.

He knew that this was just as big a step for her as it was for him. Still, it felt right. For the first time in a while, Jon believed that everything would be fine.

Part 12 < Part 13 > Part 14

#g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #g/t story #original characters #shortcut g/t #g/t community #g/t angst #g/t fluff

[noneedtoamputate]

Congrats on 100 followers Jess🖤 For the book recommendations, if you don’t mind, I recently read Motherthing by Ainslie Hogarth and enjoyed the generational horror/hauntings and existential dread aspects of it. I’m not really a fan of fantasy, sci-fi, or YA, but other than that, I’m open to any suggestions! Thank you, and congrats again! - @lostloveletters

Hi Battie! Thanks for the ask. I am adding "Mothering" to my to-read list after reading the description. I have four possible titles for you, going in several different directions based on what you liked about "Mothering." The suggestions might seem all over the place, but I hope at least one catches your eye. Disclaimer: I haven't read any of these books, but I used professional tools to find readalikes for you.

The first suggestion is "Sometimes I Lie" by Alice Feeney. It's about a woman in a coma who can't move but can hear everything going on around her as she tries to piece together what happeend to her. It's a psychological thriller with some toxic family dynamics.

The next one might seem off the wall, but since you're in the HBO War fandom, it might work. "Displacement" is a graphic novel memoir by Lucy Knisley. A 20-something artist, she goes on a cruise with her grandparents. She is unused to being a caretaker to elderly people with major health problems. However, her grandfather, a WWII veteran, shares stories with her. I included the title for the generation gap and family difficulties.

The third title is the similarly-named "Mother" by Zoje Stage. Grace's mother is newly widowed and moves in with her during the pandemic. Grace's twin, Hope, died when they were children, and accusations start to arise. It's an intense thriller with lots of family trauma included.

Finally, I added "Postcards from the Edge" by Carrie Fisher. It's fiction, but based closely on her life with her mother, Debbie Reynolds. A recovering drug addict comes to terms with her actress mother. Lots of mother-daughter conflict in a Hollywood setting.

Let me know if you end up reading any of the titles and what you think. (And it won't hurt my feelings at all if the books weren't for you. It helps to learn why readers like or don't like books.)

I Have 100 Followers! Ask Me for Book Suggestions!

#asked and answered #i have the nicest mutuals

[thelonelybrilliance]

2023 Fanfic: TolkienGirl

Delighted to say that I wrote a mix of old and new this year! May 2024 bring the end of The Figurehead, some exciting new Silmarillion Gold Rush AU installments, and the reveal of a delightful project @mapleymood and I have been crafting!

You can find all relevant updates to the Silmarillion Gold Rush AU, "All That Glitters," here. Is it a wildly niche special interest? Yes. Is it wholly addictive for both readers and authors? Sure is! Go forth and prosper, 'tis your Manifest Destiny.

Otherwise...

Friday Night Lights:

Nostos - [Tyra, S5] In the grey, quiet hours spent packing up her things, Tyra can admit that there’s something bittersweet about the ease and uncertainty that go hand-in-hand in her new life. Turns out you can mix with other people pretty easily in the day-to-day, but the friendships don’t stick at the end of a semester; the end of a year.

doubt truth to be a liar - [Tyra, Pilot] It’s a quiet exodus, for ten thousand people. Sure, there’s the thunder of footsteps—the growl of city-like traffic, a town come alive for one night only—but that’s all. There’s no victory. The loss covers everything, heavy and silent as nightfall.

elemental - [Lyla v. Tyra, S2] Summer hits hot and heavy, no chance of rain. Thunderstorms crackle along the edges of the sky sometimes, but mostly, the sun just holds the whole world in its white-hot sway.

all the worst things in life come free to us - [Tyra, S1] Tyra isn’t easy, exactly—it’s just that life is hard.

holding the matches - [Lyla, S1] There were lines between all the lives you used to live, before Jason fell—classroom life, cheer life, school life, home life. Now there’s a secret life you can never bring into the light. Now, you have to consider the difference between little white lies and the kinds of sins that damn you.

the thief of joy - [Lyla, outsider POV, S1] The thing about Lyla Garrity...

a dim light far in the distance - [Matt, Pre-Series] Matt doesn’t know if he’s more than halfway decent at anything.

nothing that still bewildered - [Tyra & the Taylors, S1] Life’s been turned on its head, and now Tyra is corrupting wide-eyed Julie Taylor and feeling weirdly protective while she does it.

Red Rising:

either way, I forgot his name by heart - [Cassius & Julian, Pre-Series] Cassius is half a whole.

something warm roars at tonight's torn edge - [Darrow/Mustang, Red Rising] Here is how the balance between them settles: he catches her gaze, when she is hiding, and he lets her go. She finds him wounded, cut down by the one who seemed to love him like a brother, and she makes a home with him.

in the interest of truth - [Mustang & Victra, Iron Gold] Virginia will never let herself be too soft for any world. It is Mustang who has become weak—the girl who survived too stubbornly to ever truly learn wisdom.

deep worlds you lived before, deep worlds hereafter - [Roque & Mustang, post-Red Rising] “The question, I suppose, is whether one can love a man one does not understand.”

Teatime - [The Jackal, Morning Star] Your whispers, your offers, must seem gift-like. Before long, the rust-stained bastard will be wholly yours, body and mind. You don’t believe in souls.

born to raise the sons of earth - [Mustang & House Telemanus, Pre-Series -> Morning Star] She’s proven Eo right. And it wasn’t because of me. It wasn’t because of love. It was because it was the right thing to do, and because mighty Kavax was more a father to her than her own ever was.

The Summer I Turned Pretty:

even a river will die of thirst - [Jeremiah, S2] “You have so much love to give,” your mom says to you—at five, at seven, at sixteen. Maybe she’ll be saying it when you’re forty. You try to imagine your mom old, with white hair and wrinkles, carrying the years like wisdom. You can never quite picture it.

till forever falls apart - [Jeremiah, post-S1] They’re going to bury your light with her.

a reminder that all mistakes are not reversible - [Jeremiah, S1] Being a Fisher is a closed-door affair.

we possess nothing certainly (except the past) - [Jeremiah, Pre-Series] Conrad comes home early on a Tuesday, and just like, the world turns upside down again.

my name a past tense (where I left my hands for good) - [Jeremiah, S2] You’ve gotten everything off your chest, which leaves your heart exposed. It sucks, coming in second place all your life.

Stranger Things:

The Figurehead - [Stancy, speculative S5] When the first flakes of living ash begin to fall, Steve isn’t ready. He’s never ready. That’s not what counts.

to the young who want to die - [Steve, S4] You don’t get used to the end of the world; you get used to the time it takes the apocalypse to actually get on with it. 

Lockwood & Co.:

Convalescence - [End of S1] Lockwood assures them that the pain is nothing, and more importantly, “They’re letting me keep the bullet.”

more heaven than a heart could hold (an exquisite extreme, I know) - Lucy considers all the contradictions that make up A. Lockwood.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier:

among the vanishing - [Steve & Bucky] How can you give what was never yours?

Middlemarch:

much ambition and an irrepressible hopefulness - [Mary Garth/Fred Vincy] Mary could not refuse a proposal he had not made, and she could not urge one that she did not believe herself able to accept.

And a fun little update to @mapleymood and my other project, Still Life!

#my fanfic #fanfic masterlist #masterlist #my masterlists #fanfic #stranger things #red rising #captain america #marvel #mcu #middlemarch #george eliot #pierce brown #fnl #friday night lights #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #jonathan stroud #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #my best work

[annemariewrites]

List of all the books I’ve read

just wanted to keep a list of what I’ve read throughout my life (that I can remember)

Fiction:

“The Outsiders,” SE Hinton

“The Weirdo,” Theodore Taylor

“The Devil’s Arithmetic,” Jane Yolen

“Julie of the Wolves series,” Jean Craighead George

“Soft Rain,” Cornelia Cornelissen

“Island of the Blue Dolphins,” Scott O’Dell

“The Twilight series,” Stephanie Mayer

“To Kill a Mockingbird,” Harper Lee

“Gamer Girl,” Mari Mancusi

“Redwall / Mossflower / Mattimeo / Mariel of Redwall,” Brian Jacques

“1984,” and  “Animal Farm,” George Orwell

“Killing Mr. Griffin,” Lois Duncan

“Huckleberry Finn,” Mark Twain

“Rainbow’s End,” Irene Hannon

“Cold Mountain,” Charles Frazier

“Between Shades of Gray,” Ruta Sepetys

“Great Short Works of Edgar Allan Poe,” Edgar Allen Poe

“Lord of the Flies,” William Golding

“The Great Gatsby,” F Scott Fitzgerald

“The Harry Potter series,” JK Rowling

“The Fault in Our Stars,” “Looking for Alaska,” and “Paper Towns,” John Green

“Thirteen Reasons Why,” Jay Asher

“The Hunger Games series,” Suzanne Collins

“The Perks of Being a Wallflower,” Stephen Chbosky

“Fifty Shades of Grey,” EL James

“Speak,” and “Wintergirls,” Laurie Halse Anderson

“The Handmaid’s Tale,” Margaret Atwood

“Mama Day,” Gloria Naylor

“Jane Eyre,” Charlotte Bronte

“Wide Sargasso Sea,” Jean Rhys

“The Haunting of Hill House,” Shirley Jackson

“The Chosen,” Chaim Potok

“Leaves of Grass,” Walt Whitman

“Till We Have Faces,” CS Lewis

“One Foot in Eden,” Ron Rash

“Jim the Boy,” Tony Earley

“The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox,” Maggie O’Farrell

“A Land More Kind Than Home,” Wiley Cash

“A Parchment of Leaves,” Silas House

“Beowulf,” Seamus Heaney

“The Silence of the Lambs / Red Dragon / Hannibal / Hannibal Rinsing,” Thomas Harris

“Cry the Beloved Country,” Alan Paton

“Moby Dick,” Herman Melville

“The Hobbit / The Lord of the Rings trilogy / The Silmarillion,” JRR Tolkien

“Beren and Luthien,” JRR Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien

“Children of Blood and Bone / Children of Virtue and Vengeance,” Tomi Adeyemi

“Soundless,” Richelle Mead

“The Girl with the Louding Voice,” Abi Dare

“A Song of Ice and Fire series / Fire and Blood,” GRR Martin

“A Separate Peace,” John Knowles

“The Bluest Eye,” and “Beloved,” Toni Morrison

“Brave New World,” Aldous Huxley

“The Giver / Gathering Blue / Messenger / Son,” Lois Lowry

“The Ivory Carver trilogy,” Sue Harrison

“The Grapes of Wrath,” and “Of Mice and Men,” John Steinbeck

“The God of Small Things,” Arundhati Roy

“Fahrenheit 451,” Ray Bradbury

“The Night Circus,” Erin Morgenstern

“Sunflower Dog,” Kevin Winchester

“The Catcher in the Rye,” JD Salinger

“The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian,” Sherman Alexie

“The Good Girl,” Mary Kubica 

“The Last Unicorn,” Peter S Beagle

“Slaughterhouse Five,” Kurt Vonnegut Jr

“The Joy Luck Club,” Amy Tan

“The Sworn Virgin,” Kristopher Dukes

“The Color Purple,” Alice Walker

“Their Eyes Were Watching God,” Zora Neale Hurston

“The Light Between Oceans,” ML Stedman

“Yellowface,” RF Kuang

“A Flicker in the Dark,” Stacy Willingham

“One Piece Novel: Ace’s Story,” Sho Hinata

Non-fiction:

“Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl,” Anne Frank

“Night,” Elie Wiesel

“Invisible Sisters,” Jessica Handler

“I Am Malala,” Malala Yousafzai

“The Interesting Narrative,” Olaudah Equiano

“The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks,” Rebecca Skloot

“Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl,” Harriet Jacobs

“The Princess Diarist,” Carrie Fisher

“Adulting: How to Become a Grown Up in 468 Easy(ish) Steps,” Kelly Williams Brown

“How to Win Friends and Influence People,” Dale Carnegie

“Carrie Fisher: a Life on the Edge,” Sheila Weller

“Make ‘Em Laugh,” Debbie Reynolds and Dorian Hannaway

“How to be an Anti-Racist,” Ibram X Kendi

“Maus,” Art Spiegelman

“I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” Maya Angelou

“Wise Gals: the Spies Who Built the CIA and Changed the Future of Espionage,” Nathalia Holt

“Persepolis,” and “Persepolis II,” Marjane Satrapi

“How to Write a Novel,” Manuel Komroff

“The Nazi Genocide of the Roma,” Anton Weiss-Wendt

“Children of the Flames: Dr. Josef Mengele and the Untold Story of the Twins of Auschwitz,” Lucette Matalon Lagnado and Sheila Cohn Dekel

#books #some of these I read for school assignments and some I read of my own volition #some I read when I was a young teenager many years ago and some I read just this past month #somewhat in order of which I read them #some of these I have read more than once #for the record I work at a library which is how I'm able to access so many books #support your local library #also just because I read these books doesn't necessarily mean that I would recommend all of them to just anyone #don't come at me for reading 'problematic' books please #I was an english major in college and didn't get to choose a lot of what I read #but even the ones I was forced to read I'm glad that I read them #I don't really regret reading any of these; even the one's that I didn't like #I will add to the list whenever I finish a book #annemariereads

[whispersintheink]

6th September 2023

1st Book

I read the whole of “Postcards From The Edge” in one day. I enjoyed it so much I couldn’t put it down.

From the very first page, Fisher's writing captivates with its raw honesty and unflinching portrayal of Suzanne's struggles. As readers, we are immediately drawn into her world, feeling an overwhelming urge to shield her from the harsh realities of addiction and the relentless pressures of Hollywood.

Fisher's portrayal of Suzanne is both heartbreaking and inspiring. We witness her battle with addiction, her journey through rehab, and her attempts to rebuild her life. Through it all, Suzanne's resilience shines through, and we find ourselves rooting for her every step of the way. Fisher's ability to create such a complex and relatable character is a testament to her own experiences and her deep understanding of the human condition.

The novel's structure, presented as a series of postcards, adds a unique layer to the narrative. Each postcard offers a glimpse into Suzanne's life, allowing us to witness her triumphs and setbacks, her moments of despair and hope. It is through these intimate snapshots that we develop a profound connection with Suzanne, feeling a strong desire to protect her from the harsh realities she faces.

Fisher's writing style is a perfect blend of wit, humor, and vulnerability. She tackles difficult subjects with grace and sensitivity, infusing the story with moments of levity that provide much-needed relief from the weight of Suzanne's struggles. It is this delicate balance that makes "Postcards from the Edge" such a compelling and unforgettable read.

"Postcards from the Edge" is a testament to the indomitable human spirit. Through Suzanne's journey, we are reminded of the power of resilience, the importance of self-acceptance, and the healing that can come from embracing our vulnerabilities. Carrie Fisher's masterful storytelling and her unwavering commitment to portraying Suzanne's journey with authenticity make this book a must-read for anyone seeking a heartfelt and transformative literary experience.

I’m thinking of watching the film with Meryl Streep. But am unsure whether it will live up to the book. I adore Meryl Streep though.

#postcards from the edge #carrie fisher #reading #reading challenge

[buzzdixonwriter]

George Lucas Is A Lousy Storyteller, Episode One

Let’s talk about the naked emperor elephant in the room:  George Lucas is a lousy storyteller.

He’s been lucky in his personal career, fouling out with his first feature, hitting a respectable double with his second, and then a grand slam bases loaded outta-da-park home run for his third.

The considerable media empire he started typically succeeds better when they hand over his projects to more skillful storytellers than to rely on Lucas’ own storytelling abilities. 

The ancillary successes of Star Wars hinge off side projects he provided little direct input into.  The more closely involved he is, the less likely a project is to succeed.

And to those of you thinking this is sour grapes, no:  This evaluation is based solely on Lucas’ own words and on his own films.

Lucas seems supremely disinterested in the basic structure of storytelling.  His interest as a filmmaker lies more in sight and sensation as opposed to a coherent story (and by coherent story I mean one where characters and theme work together to form the plot, not one where they are a jumble of discordant elements thrown together).  Carrie Fisher famously observed Lucas did not know how to direct actors, not even to the most basic degree of helping them shape their performances. 

Lucas himself long boasted of his disdain for conventional filmmaking and storytelling, a boast clearly evident in his earliest films.  He ignored USC’s film school rules, adding unapproved elements to his films to overshadow fellow students who followed school constraints.  When USC got him a chance to work on a making-of documentary short about the 1969 film MacKenna’s Gold, he turned it into a meandering, pointless, and unfocused -- in every sense of the word -- string of desert landscapes and obscure behind-the-scenes shots where one couldn’t tell what was going on.

In fairness, MacKenna’s Gold isn’t a very good movie, but if the task at hand is to tell people about it, Lucas failed miserably. 

Let’s start at the very beginning, with his USC student films:

Look At Life (1965) is a photo collage film, a series of fast paced intercuts of various contemporary images against a music backtrack, ending with an ironic comment.  The technique goes back to the early experimental film makers of the late 1920s and early 1930s in Germany, later reintroduced in America with Bruce Conner’s A Movie in 1958.  It seems every young filmmaker at some point dose a movie like this because they’re cheap / fast / easy.

Herbie (1966) is an abstract film showing the play of light on cars.  To be fair, every young filmmaker also shoots a movie like this at some time.  Call it a rite of passage.

Freiheit (1966) shows a frightened young man in a white shirt and a tie running through the woods.  He sees an object (a sign?  Surviving prints are too murky to make this out clearly) and runs towards it, only to be gunned down from off camera.  A soldier comes out to examine his body while various voice overs talk about how important freedom is.  Presumably, Lucas intended this as some sort of comment on the draft and the Vietnam war, but it seems more pretentious than profound and frankly looks amateurish.  The title is German for “freedom”.

1:42.08 (1966) is a short documentary about a driver making a time trial run in a sports car.  It’s well directed in terms of camera placement and editing, but it’s nothing but a guy getting in a car and driving around a track.  It’s the kind of footage that would serve well a as a show reel for someone wanting a job shooting commercials or sports videos as it focuses entirely on motion and sensation, not story.  While other students in class were limited to black and white film, Lucas shot his in color, giving him an unfair edge.  His passion for cars comes through, however, and from this short one can see how he visited the topic in American Graffiti.

Electric Labyrinth THX 1138 4EB (1967) is Lucas’ most famous student film and to be frank, it does mark the highwater mark of his college career.  Assigned the task of instructing USAF officers in the basics of filmmaking, Lucas dragooned them into making a dystopian sci-fi short using real locations such as Los Angeles International Airport (yes, back then you could simply go to the airport late at night and shoot a sci-fi film in the empty corridors without a ton of security descending on you).  The film does run a bit longer than truly necessary to tell the story, and the story is very basic (guy flees oppressive society by running through empty corridors until he finds a door leading outside), but the sound design really helps sell the mood and sense of the future.

The Emperor (1967) is a short documentary about then popular LA DJ “Emperor” Bob Hudson.  It’s essentially a pretentious puff piece and the best elements in it seem to be taken from commercials shot by somebody else, but Lucas intercuts between Hudson and young people on the streets of Los Angeles.  Hudson boasts of his appeal to young people and perhaps in the day he really was thought of as a counter-culture figure, but 55 years later he seems more like a mellower, less toxic Rush Limbaugh.  Without the context of the era, the importance of radio in general and Hudson in particular is lost on modern audiences while the !960s sexism wears thin.  This short is notable for the first glimpse of how Lucas would later handle Wolfman Jack in American Graffiti.  For reasons known only to him, Lucas inexplicably puts the credits at the midway point of the film.

Anyone Lived In A Pretty How Town (1967) is about a magical (?) photographer popping in and out of existence as he follows a young couple, taking their picture yet never finding an image that satisfies him.  This film feels like a throwback to Lucas’ earliest efforts, with a very amateurish look and performances.  It seems heavily inspired by Carson Davidson’s Help! My Snowman's Burning Down (1964) and Jim Henson’s Time Piece (1965), both of which were well known to film students of the era.

6.18.67 (1967) is the aforementioned abortive making-of documentary and we needn’t repeat ourselves.

Filmmaker (1968) is a behind the scenes documentary on Francis Ford Coppola’s The Rain People (1969) and boy howdy, it sure didn’t do Coppola any favors in how it portrayed him and his sixth or eighth feature film (depending on whether one wants to count The Terror and Battle Beyond The Sun as actual Coppola directed features).  It depicts a chaotic, unfocused production with a lot of waste, not the sort of thing one hopes major studios would take note of.  The end titles are over a group shot of The Rain People’s cast and crew, and Lucas zooms in tight on himself standing on a truck, towering above the others as bombastic music plays.  Keep that image in mind.

Bald:  The Making Of THX 1138 (1971) seems to me to be the most disturbing of Lucas’ short film.  It’s another making-of doc, this one about the feature version of his award winning student sci-fi film.  It focuses on the actors Robert Duvall, Johnny Weissmuller Jr., and actresses Maggie McOmie and Irene Forest getting their heads ritually shaved by a sardonic barber dressed in black, and dwells with sadistic glee on the discomfort of the two actresses as their hair is shorn off.  Remember this was shot in 1971, and during the 1960s long hair marked a cultural sea-change in the US and around the world.  For the actors of THX 1138 to shave their heads marked no small emotional trauma (Sid Haig excepted; that was his look from Spider Babyonward).  Lucas never shied away from exploiting actors, he just stayed careful enough to do it in a not so obvious manner.  This film is genuinely painful to watch and diminishes enjoyment of the feature.

Which leads us to his first three features:

THX 1138 (1971) expanded his student film.  It’s not a bad film, it deserves praise for a lot of what it achieved, but it’s ultimately soulless and by the numbers, the sort of dystopian sci-fi tale found in Ace Doubles through the 1960s.  In a very odd way it’s the mirror twin of Zardoz (1974), with each film in that pair doing right what the other did wrong and vice versa.  It’s another film that doesn’t quite jell and lacks the panache to steamroll through those patches.  In 2004 Lucas released an expanded director’s cut that added CGI special effects, thereby undercutting one of the original version’s chief strengths, that it looked and felt real because much of it was filmed in real futuristic looking locations.  This is another example of Lucas’ weakness as a storyteller, a belief that making things Bigger!  Brighter! will also make them better.  Keep that in mind when we get to Jar Jar Binks.

American Graffiti (1974) marked Lucas’ first box office success, not on the scale of blockbusters that followed, but a solid hit nonetheless.  Lucas found a balance between his interest in car culture and rock & roll with Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck’s thoughtful and poignant screenplay.  Lucas is never able to rise above his collaborators, and the better his crew, the better his productions.  A far more low key and more human /humane film than THX 1138, American Graffiti put him in excellent field position for his next and career-wise most important film.

Star Wars [none of that sub-titled / roman numeral / retconned / CGI enhanced crap but the original theatrical Han-shoots-first version] (1974) was the lucky break every creative soul dreams of.  Famously, Lucas wanted to get the rights to Flash Gordon but couldn’t cut a deal (he previously included the trailer for the old Buck Rogers serial at the start of THX 1138).  Frustrated by their refusal, he wrote several drafts of a script originally called The Star Wars.  Comparing them and early production art to the final film show Lucas doesn’t think creatively in terms of clear and consistent storylines but rather disjointed scenes and characters.  When at the top of his form (as with the original Star Wars) it produces a light-hearted audience pleasing romp that easily sidesteps its own plot holes.

When not at the top of his form, however, we get The Phantom Menace / Attack Of The Clones / Revenge Of The Sith.

 © Buzz Dixon

#George Lucas #Star Wars #THX 1138 #American Grafitti #student films #USC #Francis Ford Coppola

[toocooltobeforgotten]

tagged by @hauntedwoman 🖤🕯️

last read: carrie fisher - a life on the edge by sheila weller

current read: atonement by ian ewan

next read: tropic of capricorn by henry miller

[infjtarot]

4 of Swords ~ Deck of the Bastard Tarot

  Fours relate to stabilization; for the unhappy Swords this translates as rest or even just retreat. The image shows not death but withdrawal. People sometimes respond to difficulties by isolating themselves, literally hiding in their houses, or simply flattening their emotional reactions to hide inside themselves. This card once appeared in a reading for a man accustomed to dealing forcefully with everyone around him. The card showed him that when his aggressiveness failed, or when his confident mask grew too heavy for him, he hid from the world rather than show his other side or try to work with other people. Withdrawal, however, can also lead to healing, if the purpose is not to hide but to recoup strength. The card can mean holding back from a fight until there is a better chance of winning. Similarly, by withdrawing for a time after some deep hurt a person gives him or herself a chance to recover. Notice that the knight lies in a church, and that the window shows Christ giving a healing blessing to a supplicant. The imagery suggests the Fisher King of the Grail legend, whose physical wound mirrored the spiritual sickness of the kingdom. The picture also recalls Sleeping Beauty. Both these figures needed outsiders to awaken them. The King lay ill until Galahad brought the Grail's blessing; and the princess, symbol of a neurotic fear of life, remained asleep until the prince, refusing to be stopped by the fence of thorns (the neurotic will use the force of her or his personality to set up barriers against other people), roused her through sexual life-energy (in the Disney version he kisses her; in folk tales he has intercourse with her). Withdrawal, even for the purpose of recovery can shut a person off from the world, creating a kind of spell only outside energy can break. Rachel Pollock. 78 Degrees of Wisdom More than any other suit, the Swords explore the challenges of being an individual. The very mark of the suit, that upright sword, recalls the posture of the human ego: the first-person first-person “I” standing tall against the backdrop of the world. This upright singularity also recalls the knife-edge of a balance scale. The Swords evoke our ability to weigh our experience, seeing and understanding how the parts of our life stack up against each other. In cards like the Two of Swords, we’ve already seen how this ability can lead us ambivalently toward either peace or an impasse. The keen blade of wisdom offers us either the serenity of suspended judgment or the mental anguish of second-guessing. The Swords are the suit of Shakespeare’s Hamlet, ever hobbled by “thinking too precisely”—but this is also the suit of Siddhartha, the historical Buddha, sitting under the bodhi tree.

The Waite-Smith imagery helps us see the “fourness,” or stability, of the suit. We face a Knight who lies in a suspended state. Knights tend to be “wandsy,” but there’s no fire in this Knight. He’s no longer on his quest. Instead, his sword lies as still as he does, and three other swords hang suspended in the air above him. Everything seems to be on hold. Traditionally this is a card of recuperation, convalescence after an illness, and retreat from battle and conflict.

  But the card’s most important teaching is its sense of suspension. Can we find a middle way between victory and defeat? The Knight lies as still as the dead, but the blanket covering him belies a sense of life. In the Crowley-Harris Thoth system, this card is called “Truce.” The Waite-Smith suggests something more like a ceasefire. For now, at any rate, there is calm and peace. The swords still dangle overhead. Everything remains suspended—and perhaps nothing has been permanently resolved. And yet, the Knight’s palms press together as if in prayer or gratitude. We’re not in the blessed world of Cups, but this moment carries a grace all the same.

  There’s a space between gain and loss, between joy and sorrow. Can we release our grip, lay down our weapons, and find that quiet refuge we’ve so long been seeking? Lisa Freinkel Tishman. Mindful Tarot.

#4 of swords #swords #tarot #Deck of the Bastard tarot

[omkarpatel]

Laboratory Equipment Market Poised to Grow at Highest Pace Owing to Increasing Investment In R&D Activities

The laboratory equipment market comprises instruments, machines, apparatuses or devices that are used to perform scientific experiments, carry out medical tests and perform chemical analysis across various industries such as healthcare, academics, life science research organizations and others. Laboratory equipment play a crucial role in clinical diagnosis, drug discovery, toxicology testing and food & beverage testing. Rise in prevalence of diseases, stringent government regulations regarding safety of food products, and thrust on developing new drug discovery methodologies has augmented the demand for technologically advanced laboratory equipment.

The Global Laboratory Equipment Market is estimated to be valued at US$ 50.27 Bn in 2024 and is expected to exhibit a CAGR of 7.6% over the forecast period 2023 to 2030. Key Takeaways Key players operating in the laboratory equipment market are Thermo Fisher Scientific, Danaher Corporation, Agilent Technologies, PerkinElmer, Merck KGaA, Bio-Rad Laboratories, Bruker Corporation, Waters Corporation, Shimadzu Corporation, and Labconco Corporation. These players are focusing on new product launches and partnerships to gain a competitive edge in the market. For instance, in 2022, Thermo Fisher Scientific launched new mass spectrometry solutions to advance clinical research. The rising prevalence of chronic and infectious diseases has increased the demand for diagnostics, thereby propelling the growth of the laboratory equipment market. Furthermore, increasing healthcare expenditure along with growing number of drug discovery and clinical trial projects undertaken by pharmaceutical and biotechnology companies is fueling the adoption of advanced laboratory equipment. Technological advancements in laboratory equipment such as automation, miniaturization, robotic integration and cloud computing is increasing efficiency and productivity of research activities. For example, use of artificial intelligence and machine learning for integration with analytic devices is streamlining operations in laboratories. Market Trends Increased Adoption of Automated Laboratory Equipment: Growing need to minimize operational costs and improve productivity is driving the adoption of fully automated and robotics-based laboratory equipment. Automation allows high volume sample analysis and reduces manual errors. Focus on Developing Multi-Purpose Equipment: Vendors are focusing on development of multi-purpose laboratory equipment with features such as varying sample throughput, integrated software, and upgradable modules to address requirements of varied end-use applications with a single solution. Market Opportunities Life Science Research: Increased funding for life science research from government and private organizations presents significant opportunity for laboratory equipment vendors. Development of specialized equipment tailored for genomic, protein and cell analysis will aid drug discovery and development processes. Developing Markets: Emerging countries in Asia Pacific and Latin America offer lucrative growth opportunities driven by increasing healthcare expenditure, establishment of new research institutes and expansion of existing clinical and diagnostic laboratories. Localization of production can further aid business expansion in these regions. Impact of COVID-19 on Laboratory Equipment Market growth The COVID-19 pandemic significantly impacted the laboratory equipment market growth. During the initial outbreak, the demand for laboratory equipment surged to increase testing capacity for COVID-19. Various research laboratories and healthcare facilities procured new equipment to test patient samples and analyze the virus. However, as the pandemic spread globally, manufacturing and supply chains were disrupted. This led to reduced production of laboratory equipment and shortage of materials for manufacturing. The delivery of procured equipment also got delayed due to logistical challenges. As a result, the market witnessed slowed growth in 2020 compared to the pre-COVID levels.

#healthcare

[thesarahfiles]

Also on September 10, but in 1990, Sarah attended the premiere of “Postcards from the Edge” at Cineplex Odeon Century Plaza Cinemas in Century City, Los Angeles. The Mike Nichols movie starring Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine was cowritten by Carrie Fisher and it was a fictionalized account of her own life and growing up in Hollywood under the shadow of her famous mother Debbie Reynolds.

#sarah brightman